Fallout 4: Grim Traces
by TheBelfry
Summary: Two years since the Minutemen's victory in the Commonwealth, General Lewis Gardner lives a life of misery and mourning, looking to the past, while ignoring the future. Old rivals, a vicious world, and a force of mysterious invaders all stand in his way, but will it be his resistance to move on which halts the Commonwealth from becoming a beacon of civilization in the wastes?
1. Chapter I

CHAPTER I

There were few things in life that one could look forward to as much as today, Lewis thought, flicking out a cigarette butt and swirling the piddle of scotch left in his glass. He stood in the former carport of his neighbors, the Russells, leaned up against a support and staring past a jury rigged marquee out into the streets of Sanctuary. He watched a few traders stagger in, one leading a brahmin behind him. Lewis nodded to the two, who both looked in a bit of awe before returning his gesture. He gave a brief, half-hearted smile, which the traders returned tenfold, but the source of his joy wasn't them. In fact it was none of this.

The night was cloudy, but not wet, a storm raged on in the far distance with streaks of green lightning impacting some far off land. Even without the lightning, the small city of Sanctuary was still bright. To call it a city by Lewis' prewar standards was a joke, but by the standards of the day, Sanctuary might as well have been a metropolis. Neon lights, looted from movie theaters and diners, adorned each and every building. Some were arranged into letters, mismatched in font and size, like a serial killer's ransom note, but still somehow charming. There was an air of hope that arose from every single facet of this town, and yet somehow, Lewis didn't sense any of it.

He wasn't an old man, but his age was certainly obscured by the years of stress the man carried with him. His hair was a dark brown, thumbed neatly to the side and parted. Grey tendrils crept up the roots of it, but he seemed to embrace it. He was still of a more athletic build, but his muscles had began to atrophy. The lack of maintenance on his physique had left him looking like basketball that had been slowly leaking out air over the years. He was in an odd state of discipline and unkemptness, lacking the effort to keep up the polish, but lacking the apathy to let it die altogether. He wore a dark blue duster over a white dress shirt. He adjusted a tricorner hat back onto his head after finishing his cigarette and strode in his black boots back to his table.

He jostled through the rather crowded old garage that had been refurbished into what was now known as the "Shot Heard Round the World Bar and Inn," bumping into all sorts of assorted characters. Many were new here, and wouldn't be here but for a season or two before moving out of the Commonwealth or farther inland. Ghouls, synths, mutants, freaks of all kinds were all welcome in the newly minted Commonwealth.

The Commonwealth he had built.

Well, rebuilt, more like.

He took a seat near the faded space his neighbor's old tool cabinet had been which had now been replaced by looted airplane seats that sat around a circular wooden table. Above them dangled Christmas lights that stretched around the walls of this makeshift restaurant.

"I just don't get it." Said a freckle faced, redhead, in his mid-20's sitting in the seat next to Lewis. "I mean, hell, I can barely chew this shit for five minutes." The redhead said gesturing to a large, crustacean arm that had been cut open and seared. "Let alone some irradiated, prewar, gas station bubblegum." He continued.

"Not much to get." The man across the table from the redhead said. "Something to keep my mouth busy that ain't smoking." He, a grizzled looking man in his mid-30's said, he wore a Boston Red Sox hat, chewed loudly and exaggeratedly on a blob of pink bubblegum, and had a large burn scar across his chin and neck. "No offense, General." The Sox fan said to Lewis after making his remark. Lewis waved it off and sat, relaxing in his chair. The two men, Flannerty, the redhead, and Oak, the Sox fan, were Minutemen. Protectors of the Commonwealth, so the slogan went. Though they were his inferiors by rank, they had been about the last few friends left in his life, for which he was grateful.

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Lewis asked Oak, "Or is it just the ol' ball and chain giving you trouble?" Lewis joked, gesturing towards Flannerty. The three laughed, though Lewis could tell there was a hint of insincerity to both of their chuckles.

"Nah, General," Flannerty laughed, regaining himself, "Oak just took a swig of Vodka with gum in his mouth and I was just saying I don't understand it, is all." Flannerty said. Lewis nodded faintly and downed the last bit of Scotch in his cup. The two soldiers before him both looked at each other briefly before looking in a bit of concern to their superior officer.

"You okay General Gardner?" Oak asked, his chewing subsiding for a moment. Lewis nodded to his response and stood shakily, he pulled an old lunch tin out of his inner coat pocket and opened it. He withdrew a couple stacked bottle caps, taped together five at a time and set them on the table.

"For the tab." Lewis said, his words slurring a bit. The two soldiers stood up.

"General, you sure we can't help-" Flannerty started.

"I'm fine, just enjoy yourselves, I'm getting tired is all." Lewis assured as he walked out of the bar, a few patrons looked at him in awed quiet as he stumbled onto the cracked asphalt. The silhouetted forms of Oak and Flannerty soon returned to their seats after Lewis made it a decent ways down the new scrap city of Sanctuary.

He passed the homes of his neighbors, piles of junk shaped vaguely like rooms and shelters, now stacked on top, around and inside of them. Austin Summer's old Corvega now sat on its side, making up the Eastern wall of some new family of wasters' home. The painting of Billy DiPietro's Summerhome was now the upper half of a door that entered a greenhouse in Billy's carport and Sally Whitfield's vanity was now used as a first aid supply cabinet at the makeshift 'hospital' setup inside Mikey Whitfield's house, because Mikey had spent some money on some fucking General Atomics sterile floor tile before it happened…

Lewis turned solemnly, past the unkempt bushes that now grew into the boarded up holes that had been his windows, and onto the stairs that led to the metal door that had replaced his original one. A camera clicked at the top of his door, which he waved to and a green light came on, the door's lock clanked and Lewis walked in. He nodded to a man in a pair of blue and yellow fatigues sitting at a terminal to the right of the door. His name was Yelk, which Lewis thought was a stupid name. He was a bored, young guy, in looks and demeanor, clearly some Diamond City rich boy, and quite frankly, Lewis didn't have the want nor need to get to know him any more than that because he knew that Preston had put the guy here as a punishment.

"Welcome home, General, you feeling alright?" Yelk asked.

"I'm fine." Lewis said, "Just lock the place up and get going." He said.

"You sure, General?" Yelk asked, Lewis looked to him annoyedly, because he had permitted Yelk to leave plenty of other nights and he knew that Yelk knew the pattern by now.

"Just get out of here." Lewis ordered, Yelk stood up sharply and gave a quick salute before rushing out of the door, probably to meet his buddies back at the Shot Heard Round. Lewis shook his head and shut the metal door behind him. He took a deep breath and smiled a bit, stretching before heading back to his room and flicking on the radio.

_Oy this is Fogerty, and you're listening to Diamond City Radio_. The radio chimed as an announcer, putting on a terrible Irish accent said, _Just kidding, it's me, Foster, but if that got you in the Celtic mood, here's a gift from our boys across the pond_. An Irish folk song started to play known as _The Boys From County Cork_, Lewis mumbled the words along to it as he stripped off his colonial looking duster and slacks. He took his hat off and tossed it to the side of the bed, humming to the recently recovered song.

As the diddy came to a close, Lewis sat half nude on the edge of his bed and took a few deep breaths. _Well, I'm sure that old folk song got everyone dancing around the campfire, and maybe you even bumped into a little crush of yours._ Foster, the announcer said, Lewis continued his brief meditation through this song's introduction. Foster had become the DJ of Diamond City Radio last year since the last one, Travis, had retired from the job. _All of us have these little crushes, we imagine what they're like and how they'd be, make up a whole imaginary life with them. Well, it turns out, so does Bobby Darin, here's 'Dream Lover.' _Foster said in his trademark dark and gravelly voice.

Lewis opened his eyes and a bright smile shined across his face. He stood up sharply and headed for his wardrobe, withdrawing a clean, navy blue suit and a nice, striped tie to go with it. He carefully put on these clothes as the song played, stumbling occasionally with a drunken fervor, before he tightened his tie and looked at himself in the shattered remnants of his bathroom mirror. He smiled and shot some finger guns at himself, chuckling a few times in embarrassment for himself, he combed his hair and a tear formed in his eye, before he quickly wiped it away. The song ended and Foster began to play another, but Lewis turned off the radio and took a deep breath. He walked past his laundry room and looked inside, sitting on top of the looted and scrapped washing machine was a folded up Mr. Handy robot. Bullet holes scored the side of the thing and a large burning blast had a ripped hole through its center. Lewis tapped on the side of the door frame.

"Don't worry about dinner tonight, Codsworth." Lewis said to the air, "Abbie and I are headed out to Wright's Inn for the night, we'll bring Sean back something, alright?" He said, pausing for a few moments. The air didn't respond. Lewis nodded and walked out into the kitchen, he opened his fridge and pulled out a tupperware container with a pile of corn, some mashed potatoes and a piece of grilled chicken in it. He pulled out another and closed the door with his forearm. Lewis emerged from the back door of his house, the metal door he had unlocked crashing back into the house as he did, before he carried the tupperware containers to a portion of disturbed and slightly risen earth. He sat one of the containers down and pulled a chair over to the spot with his own. Several other tupperware containers sat next to it, all emptied out. Lewis opened up his own food and began to eat it.

"Hello, again." Lewis said, "You know, it's been too long since we had our last date night." He continued, "We oughta have Codsworth babysit Sean more often." He said, pausing for a few moments, he laughed at the nothingness and continued. "I know it makes you nervous, but he seems good with the kid, and I trust him with my life, you know." Lewis said, "God knows he's saved it a few times." Lewis mumbled with the beginning of a frown before he shook his head and smiled, crossing his legs as he spoke over mouthfuls of chicken. "Well... I know, I know, I remember the rule. I can't talk about that one. I don't talk about up here if you don't talk about down there, alright?" Lewis said nodding, a few tears rolling down his cheek. He quickly wiped them off.

* * *

A few buildings away in the city stood a watchtower. Wrought metal of various types welded together into a Frankenstein of a structure, it stood tall above the rest of the 'city's buildings and overlooked the city walls. Here one could see Republic Circle, where all of the general goods stores opened, they could see Riverside towers, where massive erections of junk and metal were built into what was equivalent to apartment complexes, and they could see the Junkyard, which was in truth a factory site, where the city's scrap metal walls and plates were forged. There were also farm plots and a few administrative buildings, but much of this was at the large Red Rocket Gas Station over the bridge, which was, by many, considered a different town in and of itself. However, tonight, the few soldiers that were stationed up here, listening to Diamond City Radio and sitting on metal fold out chairs had something much more interesting to watch.

"What's he doing?" One said.

"Dunno, he does it every Thursday night though." The one with the binoculars asked, he relaxed his view before continuing, "Sad, ain't it?"

"Hell yeah, going from savior of the Commonwealth to this? For God's sakes, it'd be better if he'd die before he ruins his reputation." Another said, the others looked to him in shock, "I don't mean nothin' by it, I'm just-"

"Disparaging your superiors?" Another voice asked, The soldiers turned about to see the source of the voice as Flannerty, his red hair shining in the light of the small watchtower. The soldiers saluted to him and Oak, who emerged from behind him.

"Captain Flan-" One of the ashamed soldiers started to say. Flannerty shushed him and gestured for the binoculars, which the soldier obliged. Flannerty watched as Lewis cackled in laughter, slapping his knee and gesticulating a conversation towards the grave in front of him. Flannerty shook his head and looked to the rest of them.

"Now, I admit it's been a few months since I've done watch myself, so I may be rusty, but remind me… Are you supposed to be watching our guys, or out there?" Flannerty asked, gesturing to the pitch black wastes that blanketed the distance. The soldiers looked ashamed. "Right, I'm gonna assume you didn't hear me then-" Flannerty started. The soldiers erupted in a chorus of 'Out there.'s Flannerty nodded, "That's right." he said, "So do that." He said, pushing the binoculars into one of the soldier's chests. The two captains, Oak and Flannerty marched down the stairs of the tower and after reaching the first landing, Oak tugged on Flannerty's shirt.

"Listen-" Oak started.

"No." Flannerty replied instantly.

"You know we have to." Oak continued.

"I don't care, the man's grieving." Flannerty said.

"He's been grieving for two years now and getting black out drunk for half of it." Oak said, "He needs help." Oak said, Flannerty started to walk down the stairs again. "Flannerty." Oak called out before following him down. As they reached the bottom of the flights, Oak called out again and Flannerty whipped around violently.

"I don't care. That man saved the damn Commonwealth. We owe him nothing but our respect and understanding." Flannerty hushedly said.

"For God's sakes, he's going stir crazy in there Flannerty." Oak said, Flannerty started to get even more red than he already was before Oak began to clarify his sentiments, "Listen, I owe him every gratitude I can give, my brother was at Bunker Hill and… You know that story- But just because I respect him, and I'm grateful for him, doesn't mean I can't care about him and think that he's not immune to every fault-" Oak started.

"Oh, can it." Flannerty said, "You think Garvey'll do anything about it?" He asked.

"Garvey's the only one who can do anything for him." Oak said. Flannerty shook his head frustratedly.

"He already gave him that fucking ingrate of a 'body guard,' and Garvey didn't say it, but he may as well have, because that pisser's only job is to make sure Gardner doesn't off himself. We both know that if he hears about this, he's gonna put him on house arrest or god knows what." Flannerty said.

The quick shuffling and stomping of stomps on a metal staircase came from the tower, both of the captains looked to its source to see one of the soldier's pale faced and alert.

"We've got a lone man coming in from the South East, over the marsh." The watchman said. Both men looked at each other and saw the sudden worry in each of their faces.

* * *

"I always enjoyed the potatoes here." Lewis said, scooping a bite into his mouth. "Did I ever tell you, back in Alaska, they'd send us these ration packs with this white dust in them-" He said, taking a moment to chew and wipe off his face with a napkin, "And there was a label on them that said dehydrated mashed potatoes." See, you put it in a pan with some hot water, and after a few seconds of stirring you had 'ready to eat' mashed potatoes. Now, some of the guys complained, but I thought they were pretty good. It was great, they sent us a few boxes of the stuff instead of a shipment of fusion cells once and as far as I'm concerned it was a better deal." Lewis laughed, "Of course, at the time, I was scared outta my mind, but the reds didn't come too hard that time." He chuckled reminiscently, "Probably already told you that one but-" Lewis started before his thought was interrupted by a metal door being opened. Lewis closed his eyes and let out a deep, angered sigh.

"I already told you to leave Yelk, I'm busy-" Lewis said, before turning around and seeing Flannerty breathing hard and pale in the face. A boy of seventeen stood behind him, looking much the same. "Yelk didn't lock the fucking door." Lewis grumbled.

* * *

"Gunners." The messenger, who had come from the town of Starlight a few miles Southeast, explained, describing the mercenary group that so terrorized the Southern border. He was scared, sure, but also nervous about sitting in front of the famous General Gardner, the man who tamed the Commonwealth, the man who now stood at his side pouring him a glass of brahmin milk. Flannerty and oak sat at Lewis' kitchen table as a cat danced around their feet. The messenger jumped as the small animal grazed his calf. Flannerty and Oak watched Lewis for his reaction, but Lewis simply continued pouring some glasses of milk before setting the empty glass in a row of them near his trashcan. Lewis straightened himself, and untied his tie, he had taken off his coat when he walked in and now stood in his kitchen, watching the armed men in blue army fatigues sitting at his table as though he were a stranger, watching some show on his television. His thoughts were interrupted when Flannerty began speaking again.

"How many?" Flannerty asked, trying to goad Lewis into reacting.

"Dunno." The messenger said, still dripping wet from his wade through the water. "T-They had an Assaultron with them." The messenger stuttered, Oak began to speak but the messenger cut him off, "And stealthboys…" He said. Flannerty noticed Lewis take an interested look towards the messenger.

"Stealthboys?" Lewis asked, the messenger turned to him and nodded nervously. Lewis let out an interested _hmm_ before he noticed his captains looking to him and shrugged, gesturing for the messenger to continue. Oak shook his head dismissively.

"How many dead?" Oak asked.

"A lot." The messenger stammered, "Thirty, maybe fourty… A-At least what I saw…" He said.

"Did we give as good as we got?" Oak continued. The boy sat there for a minute before somberly shaking his head. Both of the captains grimaced.

"Jesus…" Oak said, shaking his head.

"Are they coming this way?" Flannerty asked, the boy shook his head.

"They're taking hostages." He answered, "There's not enough for… this place. But Starlight-" He started.

"Too big to see it coming…" Said Lewis, sipping on a cough of coffee and recalling a tagline from a propaganda poster featuring a Chinese elephant being uppercut in the jaw by an American marine. None of the others seemed to get the reference, which didn't surprise Lewis.

"I don't get it, wouldn't that make it harder to take?" Flannerty said.

"No." Oak and Lewis responded in unison.

"Starlight's only the biggest because it has the biggest population, but most of em' aren't soldiers." Said Oak.

"And it's got our munitions factory…" Lewis muttered, "War's not going well for them so they made a mad break for our supply line." He swirled around his coffee in the cup.

"Anything else for us?" Flannerty asked the messenger, who took a sip from his glass.

"No, I don't think so…" The messenger said. Flannerty patted the boy's shoulder.

"Go ahead and get yourself something to eat from the bar down the street, tell them it's on us." Flannerty said. The boy nodded but before he left he looked back to the three.

"When you go back, I'm coming with you." The boy said, all three of the other's looked back at him, he stared off into the distance and his nose bunched up in anger "They killed my fucking nephew." He cursed, still trembling and shivering. Flannerty started.

"We'll do what we can." Said Oak.

"No we won't." Lewis interrupted, Flannerty and Oak both shot him a glare. "Revenge won't help, kid, it'll only deepen the hole." Lewis continued.

"General, maybe now isn't the time-" Oak started.

"Now's the only time he's gonna hear it." Lewis interrupted and looked back to the boy, "You're young, you're hot blooded, but going there gets you nothing other than shot." Lewis said, waggling a finger at him. " Rest up, heal up, and if you want to make sure more people don't die we can send you to Colonel Garvey, and he'll put you on the very front lines. But currently you're beaten, bruised and bloodied, we send you out now, you won't last the first wave of fire." Lewis said. The boy looked at them all a bit shocked before taking a few deep breaths and walking out. Oak looked to Lewis somewhat angrily.

"Well, I'm sure he's just thrilled." Oak said.

"What? What'd you want me to tell him? That we'd take him on his revenge quest?" Lewis said.

"Listen, General, you're right, but-" Flannerty started.

"Kid lost family, General, he's angry. We should've given him some time to calm down…" Oak said, chewing his gum. Lewis shrugged. The three sat awkwardly for a moment.

"The kid needed to hear it, what do you want from me?" Lewis said, shrugging. He pet his cat, Codsworth, a bit before lifting the creature and putting it over on its bed on one of the shelves. The other two in the room watched him do this.

"It's a pretty cat, General." Oak said, not trying to distract from the urgency of the threat, but simply making conversation to try and defuse the general.

"He's a good cat, that's what's important." Lewis said. "Always thought about getting one… You know, prewar and all." He continued. "Never did because of the litter box, but now, the world being the way it is, who cares if he shits on the floor." Lewis said, brushing right under the cat's chin.

"I'm more of a dog person." Flannerty said. Oak and Lewis both looked to him with a bemused look.

"I used to have a dog." Lewis commented.

"Before the war?" Oak asked tiredly.

"Well, yeah, but after too." Lewis said, "His name was Dogmeat." Lewis said.

"A bit morbid." Oak said. "Did he die?" Oak asked. Lewis' hand tensed up a bit and he closed his eyes, but shook his head.

"No, Nick Valentine, a detective out in Diamond City owns him now. I loved the thing, but, me being a homebody, I felt bad keeping him here all the time." He said. "He's a good dog, Codsworth here is just better for what I am now." Lewis said. Oak tapped on the desk for a moment, seeing the calm somewhat setting in on the general's face.

"So…." Oak hesitated with something.

"So?" Lewis responded inquisitively, genuinely seeming like he didn't know where the conversation was headed. He crossed to the kitchen and the cat, now awake, jumped down and followed him.

"What's our plan?" Oak asked, looking to the general.

"Our plan?" Lewis asked incredulously, "Well, our plan is to call up Preston and tell him about it." Lewis said, sipping his coffee and petting the cat that had leapt up next to him on the kitchen counter. "He'll bring his battalion up and mop up the invaders and any stragglers along the way." Lewis said, throwing his free hand up in the air knocking over the cardboard tube that had house a paper towel roll, which fell and hit the poor cat lightly on the head. "Problem solved." He said. The two looked at him astounded, Flannerty buried his head in his hands, watching the cat jump in surprise at the sudden attack and swish its tail aggressively at the tube, posturing at the threat that he knew wasn't real.

"General…" Oak started, "All due respect, I don't think that's the best way to do things." Oak said.

"Oh?" Lewis asked, leaning back on his counter.

"The Colonel is busy down South with the Gunners and containing the Glowing Sea, he can't spare the troops to come up here and help us without losing what he's gained down there." Oak said, "We're the only sizable settlement up here with enough manpower and weaponry to help right now. All due respect, I think our best chance is for you to call in some guys from Tenpines and Satellite, and we march down there tonight if possible-" Oak said.

"Oh are you the general now?" Lewis interrupted. Flannerty shook his head embarrassed at the scene. Oak looked to both of them and pleaded with the general.

"General, I-" Oak started again.

"See I just thought, I was-" Lewis started.

"General-" Oak continued.

"No, it's okay, really Captain Oak." Lewis continued.

"General!" Oak shouted. Lewis went silent. Oak did as well, a bit worried that he had made such an outburst. Lewis looked at the two for a few seconds. Flannerty thought that Lewis looked exactly like his cat.

"Get the fuck out of my house." Lewis said blankly.

"What?" Oak said.

"Get. The Fuck. Out. Of my house." Lewis said, exaggerating every word. Oak was surprised and offended.

"General, you're over reacting." Flannerty started, clearly tense and attempting to keep his own anger under control.

"Overreacting? That's fucking rich." Lewis yelled "Call Garvey, but don't you fucking dare call me again." He continued straightening himself and beginning to walk to the door. Flannerty stared at him for a moment before slamming his hands on the table and standing up.

"Come on!" Flannerty yelled, Oak recoiled in shock, "Protect the people at a minute's notice. That was the dream!" Flannerty shouted angrily, "That's the minutemen, and you're our general! For fuck's sake, act like it!" Flannerty said. Lewis looked at him in disbelief, but Flannerty took a few deep breaths and sat back down. "You're the fucking general." Flannerty said, "Aren't you?"

A knock rapped off the metal door. Lewis muttered a few curses before heading to the terminal that controlled the camera.

"Yeah, who is it?" Lewis asked frustratedly.

"It's Yelk, General, the gate guard wanted me to ask the Captains whether or not that messenger was allowed to leave?" Yelk asked. Lewis looked to the other two.

"No, no he's not, Yelk, did he?" Lewis asked, becoming more attentive to the subject. Lewis watched Yelk shout back the question to another guy, who shouted it back to another in a chain of messages until the echo returned to Yelk, who nodded at the screen shamefully. "God fucking dammit." Lewis grumbled. Oak and Flannerty got up from their seats, Lewis looked at them with a rather anxious expression on his face, which surprised the two. He paced back from the door and looked out of his kitchen window, towards the grave. He took a cigarette and tapped it into place before lighting it delicately and taking a puff. He inhaled deeply and exhaled out with a tired indecision.

"General?" Oak asked. Lewis looked to the two captains and slicked back his hair with a stressed expression. He shook his head and eventually rose a finger, as though he were about to explain something.

"Hail Metz in Tenpines and whoever the fuck's in charge now at Satellite." Lewis said, "If anyone's up in Concord, have them assemble a militia as well." He continued, immediately cutting to his bedroom to pull back on his duster and slacks. The other two followed him back. "Arm our boys, and grab my musket from wherever the fuck it is." Lewis said, the two captains nodded and looked to each other with excitement at the newfound spirit of their general. Lewis flicked his cigarette butt out the window and looked back to the two as he pulled on his coat. "Oh, and grab, a couple barrels of flour and some pulse grenades, if we have them." Oak started to try and remember all this.

"Alright, sir, done." Oak said, "I get the radio, you get the supplies?" He said to Flannerty, who nodded and then Oak ran down the hallway. Flannerty looked to Lewis.

"Flour?" He asked.

"For the stealthboys." Lewis said. "Can't remember if they work like the Chinese ones or not, but back during the war, we would throw buckets of water around, whatever snow didn't melt was where one was hiding. Water would freeze on the stealthsuit and fuck it up too, so it was doubly effective." Lewis said taking off his pants and pulling on the other pair.

"Shouldn't we get-"

"Privacy please." Lewis joked, pulling on his slacks. Flannerty rolled his eyes annoyedly and covered them.

"Shouldn't we get water then?" He said.

"Won't freeze since it's not Winter time in Alaska." Lewis replied, "My hope is that if we spread the flour on them, we find the floating flour walking around or whatever ground ain't being covered in flour and shoot the living hell out of it." Lewis said.

"And if that doesn't work?" Flannerty asked.

"That's where the grenades come in." Lewis said, "They're pulse grenades, so the minor EMP should hopefully fuck with the internal electronics of the stealthkit." He said.

"And if they're too close to a civilian to hit with a grenade?" Flannerty asked.

"We pray and spray." Lewis replied, loading a modified 10mm pistol from his night stand. Flannerty looked rather shocked at Lewis. He had heard tales of the old General doing this sort of thing back in the day, but ever since he had been assigned to Sanctuary, he'd grown to know the general as more a child than a tactician. "You ready?" Lewis asked.

Flannerty nodded and woke up from his shocked state.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Flannerty said. Lewis waved him off.

"Well, go ahead. I've got something to take care of on my own real quick, but whenever you've got confirmation from Oak that we've got guys from the other settlements coming, I"ll meet you at the Shot Heard 'Round." Lewis said.

"Yes, sir!" Flannerty shouted and ran out to his duties. Lewis walked him out into the living room and Flannerty let himself out.

Lewis took a heavy breath and looked towards his backyard. Ambling out, he looked at the grave of his wife, Abbie and a few tears dripped from his eyes, down to his nose. He carried his coffee cup out and set it on the ground next to the tupperware container.

"Sorry," Lewis gestured towards the colonial outfit he wore and the pistol and explained with a tearful laugh, "Work." He said. He shook his head and let it hang there for a moment. "I probably look like I'm trick or treating to you, huh?" Lewis laughed. He sat, knelt there before the grave for a moment before burying his head in his knees for a moment. "I'll leave that for you." He mumbled and gestured to the coffee, remembering how she always used to finish his coffee in the mornings after he left because he only drank a few sips of it and she was too tired to brew another cup. He chuckled at the memory and put his hand flat on the soil of the grave. "I've got something to do, because I said something stupid to someone…" Lewis said, "I know you're familiar with me doing that... " He chuckled, "But… I shouldn't've said it, not like I did, and maybe not when I did it either… If you were _here _here, I know you'd've put it better, but… " He said, the faintest whimper detectable in his voice. "I'm trying, Abbie. I'm trying, but I just can't escape it." He said, a few more tears dripped off of his nose and into the soil, darkening the brown into a near black shade. "Just pray for me that I didn't fuck it up too bad this time, I'll see you again tonight one way or another, but I certainly don't want that fucking kid to see you…" He said, "No offense." He said, sitting there for a few more moments. He stood up and grasped the headstone with a tender firmness. "I love you, and I'll bring back breakfast if I'm up late enough for it." He withdrew his hand gently, letting his fingers caress it as they left the surface of the stone and turned about on a heel. The redness and puffiness of his eyes giving way to a stern, cold look. The look of a hawk about to dive for something. He grasped the grip of his pistol and wrapped his fingers around it in its holster. He felt for the grooves of the gun and found them, letting them feel natural again. Flannerty ran up to him and gave him an all good sign, and Lewis approached the gathering throng of minutemen at the Sanctuary gates.


	2. Chapter II

The general that stood before Lyanna Wilson was something different than a man. Men lived, aged and died, but the General, the General had only withered. The man who had once been a mythic figure in his own lifetime now stood as an atrophying reminder of the fearsome power that the karmatic gods of the wasteland wielded. He moved heavily, each step echoing on the Earth. The smell of cheap, wasteland whiskey emanated from the man, though his demeanor was still the only thing that was intoxicating. He appraised the twenty some soldiers in front of him like a purveyor of fine wine looking at kegs in a cellar. Every few paces he'd stop and comment on some misdone strap or other regulation defiance, yet he never commented on her uniform. Two captains stood by, inspecting his inspection, an air of worry came off of them that worried Lyanna herself.

It was a late Friday morning, the sun barely creeping over the horizon in the East, past rugged, fallen towers of Boston. They stood on the cracked asphalt road of the Patriot's Concourse, the road that led from the main gate of Sanctuary, right outside the old Red Rocket Gas Station, over the bridge to the town proper. The Red Rocket, an old, decrepit concrete building, stood as a sort of customs station, and defensive structure, one that would keep the various enemies of the Minutemen away. Its boarded up windows were plastered in rules and propaganda, the Minutemen insignia of the lightning bolt and musket sprayed over it wildly. The building had a large red rocket that jutted from its tip, standing tall, with a ramshackle guard tower constructed with bits of old scaffolding surrounding it. The old gas pumps had been converted into feeding troughs for brahmin and caravans that came through, and the convenience store that was attached to it, now became a center for shipping manifests and other commerce related paperwork. The auto repair garage of the place had been converted into the inner entrance of a large building, made of scavenged metal, various signs reading 'Employees only' and 'Authorized Personnel Only' draped the thing at each door, and guards were stationed outside as well. A statue of a soldier from the old Revolutionary War stood across the street from the Red Rocket, draped in blue flags and picture frames of those who had died in the service of the Commonwealth.

Lyanna wondered at the sight, having heard of the glamour of Sanctuary, but never really having seen it. To the prewar sensibilities of Lewis, the place looked like a children's fort made out of a gas station, but to Lyanna this place may as well have been New York. She had been assigned to a town near here, known as Tenpines, for a few weeks. It had only been eight hours since she had been summoned to Sanctuary with all but one of her fellow minutemen. She knew something had to be off, they were just recruits after all, to summon them must mean they're all that's left. Eventually the enigmatic general stopped and assumed a relaxed parade rest at the center front of the formation. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, he slipped a lighter out of the tiny plastic package and lit one before stuffing the box back into his coat. He puffed the thing and looked amongst the group, nodding for a moment before taking another puff and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He spoke with a raspy bass, one that had most likely deteriorated over the years.

"So." He said matter of factly, breaking the silence and letting a cloud of white smoke scatter with his breath. "It's been a while since many of you have heard from me…" Lewis spoke, letting the words set with the crowd for a moment. "And many of you have probably heard the rumours… or, hell, just seen me now." Lewis said, starting to feel his own self loathing stir, "I look like shit, I sound like it too… I know…" He said depressively. A few awkward laughs sounded from the troops at his matter of factness

Oh, come on now, not like this pal. Flannerty thought.

"And quite frankly there are some who like me better that way." Lewis said again, with a renewed vigor that Lyanna detected easily, he began to pace in front of the crowd. "The raiders… the mutants… the Gunners…" He said, "They've all gotten used to not having to fear any sort of retribution for their actions… And they've forgotten that it is only by our complacence that we have let these events occur. And to them I apologize…" He said, a few odd looks were given by the troops, "But I don't intend to let it stand any longer." He said with a venomous tone." Lewis looked to Oak. "Captain Oak, debrief the troops please." Lewis said while he continued pacing. Oak looked to him, nodded with a bit of an excited energy and began to speak.

"A group of Gunners from down South have occupied the town of Starlight-" A few gasps and hushed murmurs began amongst the crowd. "Ahem," Oak said reasserting himself and silencing the group, "They've also captured and hold captive many of the citizens of the town." He said, a few murmurs again but a quick glare from Oak silenced them. "They're equipped with a number of advanced tech surprises. Intel say that they've got one assaultron if not more, and some of their soldiers are equipped with stealth boys. Now the General has a few tricks for em', but you all need to be prepared to be fighting in close quarters and to be watching your shots. Every miss is no longer just a missed opportunity it's a potential hit on a hostage." Oak said. Lewis nodded and continued his pace, flicking the cigarette butt on the ground and stamping out with his heel.

"That's right." Lewis said, "Now I know most of you haven't dealt with much out here besides the occasional molerat den or drunken scavver, but this is a serious assignment." Lewis continued, "I blame no man, or woman, who wishes to take a pass on this one… But truth is ladies and gentleman, that I need bodies. Preferably bodies that know how to shoot, and there ain't many of those around here." Lewis said, resuming his parade rest stance at the front. "There ain't many who'd sacrifice their lives for others in these times, it's hard enough to just survive these days, they can't be held at fault for it." He took another pause, "But that's why the Minutemen are an extraordinary force, in a time without hope, we create it, and we live for it. We are the few who continue a revolution that may have died hundreds of years ago, but god damn it, we will make it live." He said, a rising current of hushed excitement rose through the crowd, "We are the last domino in the fall of civilization, so long as we live, and so long as that flag flies-" He said, pointing to the wavering blue flag with crossed lighting bolt and musket hung on a tall steel flagpole. "So do we." He said, his voice rose in a timbre, "We are the last bastion!" He screamed, a few cheers rose, "We are the beginning!" He continued his yell, "We will be the end!" He screamed again, Lyanna joined in the cheer. Oak and Flannerty watched with cautious excitement as well, "We are the carriers of hope in a world without it, and to any who want to take that, then god damn it, come and take it!" He yelled again, the cheers reaching a full rancorous hoot as well. "Get your packs ready, we're marching for Drumlin at 1200!" He yelled, they all let out a final cheer and continued some which dissipated as they scattered in various directions.

Lyanna smiled with the sort of glee that any propagandist would wish one would have at their patriotic slogans. She approached the other recalled soldiers from Tenpines and called out to them. They were both reaching down for duffle bags, hers was next to it. The two boys were Jack, a brown haired teenager and Declan a lanky adolescent with long black hair.

"Wasn't that incredible?" Lyanna asked, a twinkle of admiration in her eyes. Declan began lighting his own cigarette.

"Hell yeah!" He mumbled awkwardly around the cigarette. "You know, he's right, I'd heard things but…" Declan shook his head, simply taken by the awe of the event.

"I dunno," said Jack, packing his bag with everything. "This whole gunner thing seems dangerous." He shook his head, coughing when a puff of smoke drifted his way from Declan. The other two's excitement was slightly dampened by the mention of the actual mission.

"Oh don't be a nervous fucking nelly about this shit, Jack." Declan said, hiking his pack up on his shoulder. "We've got a one man army on our side." He continued.

"A one man army that's sat smoking and boozing for two years." Jack mumbled. Lyanna's twinkle had turned into a tinge of offense at Jack's remarks.

"He's our General, Jack." She said, "He's worth a hundred men." She continued, "Even if he's run down a bit, he's still worth more than every man here times ten." She said.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Jack grumbled and marched away. Declan stood and Lyanna watched him move towards the exit.

"What crawled up his ass and died, huh?" Declan laughed. Lyanna laughed as well, but a bit less. Declan nodded to her and walked off in Jack's direction. Lyanna looked back to the general, who stood, talking to his captains. She appraised him again, and saw that where she thought the Earth shook, the water no longer rippled.

* * *

Lewis nodded to the young, female, black private who stared at him for a minute, she was one of the Tenpines recruits and as soon as he acknowledged her, she immediately shot into a salute. He nodded and waved her off to join the rest of the troops, which she followed without further oddities.

In the time since he had made his tactical decision, Lewis had set a few things in motion. He'd contacted settlements in the area, requesting troops and making sure they were alright, and had given out other orders to his captains, who ran about like hive workers doing their Queen's bidding. Though Lewis could tell that they were loyal and admired him, he also knew he was doubted. He felt as though they viewed him like a car with a check engine light on that still ran well enough to not take to the mechanics. He could give out any time, and to be frank with himself, he didn't know if he'd make it through either. Lewis turned his attention back to his Captains, who spoke about more logistical situations, when he caught a drop in their conversation, he slipped in.

"So, did I put on a good enough show?" He asked, his words slightly more ununciated after his speech. He began to light another cigarette for himself, offering one to Flannerty who gingerly accepted it. Oak stuck in another piece of gum. The two captains nodded, both impressed, but Lewis could tell there was a slight awkwardness to them that implied their own cautions about him.

"You did." Flannerty said after a puff. "Better than I ever could've." He continued.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Oak asked Lewis, Lewis nodded.

"Sure, I'm sure." Lewis responded, "Just because I've been out of the hot seat for a while doesn't mean I've forgotten how to shoot." He said with a bit of a grin. The two nodded with a fake confidence. Lewis took his cigarette out of his mouth, letting out a puff of white smoke.

"Any word on the messenger boy?" asked Lewis.

"None." Said Oak. "We've had some scouts down near Drumlin looking for him too, doesn't seem like he's made any attempt at Starlight though."

"That's good." Lewis said, shaking his head.

"What?" Flannerty asked. Lewis shook his head again.

"Nothin'." He responded, "Thinking." He said. The two captains appeared to be waiting for him to slip up in some way, so that they could justify their need to play caretaker for him, "Round up the troops, I want two groups of ten. We've got 24 right?" He asked.

"Yep." Oak said, "Two groups of 12 then?" He asked. Lewis thought for a moment.

"Leave four here, just in case." said Lewis, "You made sure to every town has at least one guy left in it right?" He asked. Oak nodded. "And did you communicate down to Garvey what's going on?" He asked.

"He said to be careful, General." Flannerty responded. Lewis nodded.

"I'm always careful." Lewis replied with a faint chuckle, which was awkwardly returned from the Captains. He stomped out his cigarette before blowing out the last bit of white smoke left in his lungs, "Find out if any of em' have power armor training." Lewis ordered Oak, who nodded and ran off. Lewis turned to Flannerty. "You said Edna got here?" Lewis asked.

"Yep, she came when you were calling up the other settlements." Flannerty said.

"And the flour?" He asked. Flannerty gave a nod.

"Well let's get to it then." Lewis smiled and jogged up to the metal door marked 'For Employee's only." The guards both saluted before Lewis grumbled an "At ease." to them. He jauntily walked up the stairs inside with a few grunting breaths and coughs, before finally arriving at the second level. A few men and women in blue, mechanics jumpsuits worked hard on suits of power armor and guns. Hunched over a table, was one particular woman in a similar suit with epaulets, with graying hair that was tied back into a bun and tucked into the loop of a baseball cap. A few of the mechanics rushed to attention and saluted before Flannerty calmed them all down with an "At ease." The graying woman turned around to reveal a spry, older lady, probably in her mid-60's with wrinkles and calluses all over. Regardless she sat at the stool she was on with the lightness of an acrobat.

"General Gardner." She said, with a cracked old smile. Lewis returned the smile.

"Edna Turner." He said, he strode over in her direction and gave her a slight hug. The two let out a few raspy chuckles before Lewis dropped his embrace. Edna looked at him and appraised him head to toe.

"You look like you've seen the bottom of too many shot glasses." She said. Lewis laughed at his own expense.

"If you said bottles, you'd be closer." He replied, with a laugh "Sorry I didn't come up sooner, but I've been busy setting things up. How you been Edna?" He asked.

"I'm doing fine." She replied, resting her hands on her legs.

"Riverside treating you alright?" asked Lewis.

"Oh, it's doing just fine as well." She said, "But I think we've got business to 'tend to." She said, cutting off his next line of smalltalk. He sucked in his question and nodded, she scooted her stool aside and gestured to what Flannerty only saw as a hunk of rusted out metal sitting on the table. Lewis smiled at it.

"There she is." He said, taking the thing by what now appeared to be handles for the device, Flannerty could also slightly see a trigger mechanism near one as well.

"What is it?" Flannerty asked.

"It's the Junk Jet." Edna replied, her arms crossed pridefully. Lewis looked to flannerty and offered him to hold it, Flannerty did so and felt the things weight. He slightly played with a latch that led to a large tank on the inside.

"I found it at some prewar tech facility a long time ago." Lewis said, "Some engineer had time to waste and made it."

"For a waste of time, it'll do us some good." said Edna, speaking up above the racket that had recommenced in the workshop. "It's got an accelerator mixed in it that'll allow anything you throw in that tank to be thrown out, fast as a bullet." She finished. Edna gestured for one of her underlings to take it from Flannerty, which Flannerty obliged.

The mechanic showed the rest of them a brick, which he threw into the tank through the latched door. He pointed at a dummy with a picture of a prewar Chinese communist depicted on it and aimed the jet.

"Cover your ears, it's a bit loud." Edna warned as she put on a pair of earmuffs. Lewis did so as well, but Flannerty barely had time to do so before a rumbling noise came from the machine, eventually a red blur flew from the barrel of the cannon and the dummy's head was ripped off. The red dust and pieces of straw and fabric clanged against the metal wall.

"Holy shit!" Flannerty exclaimed. Lewis smiled at the test and looked to Edna.

"You had it here this whole time, huh?" He asked.

"Eh, it was in storage." She replied. "All it needs is the bolt and bolt action sprayed on it, and it'll be good to go." She said, letting the mechanic take it away to a small room with bits of paint slightly staining the sides of the door. Flannerty inspected the remains of the dummy and looked back to Lewis.

"That's incredible." Flannerty said. Edna chuckled with pride. Flannerty dusted off his hands and approached the two again. "I thought you were using your musket?" Flannerty asked Lewis.

"It's not for shootin'." Lewis said, he looked to Edna, "Did you get the request for the adjustment?" He asked. Edna happily nodded her head up and down.

"I did indeed, it should shred whatever's going through it." She said. Flannerty looked to the two oddly.

"The flour." said Lewis, "We need a way to disperse it fast and efficiently at a wide area in order to hit anyone in a stealth boy." He continued, "Thus." He pointed to the Junk Jet which was now carried out of the room, a crossed musket and lightning bolt emblazoned on its side in white.

"Holy shit." Flannerty looked at the two, "It'll be like a flamethrower." He said.

"But with flour." Edna corrected, "You put a bag in, it'll be shredded up by a pair of fan blades installed into the main chassis and blown out the barrel." She finished. Lewis looked at the thing inquisitively, lifting it himself again.

"How much flour would it take to get, I don't know, a minute of coverage?" He asked.

"Pfft." Edna said, obviously ridiculing the statement, "It's not meant for continuous action, it's just quick bursts." She said, "One man on the trigger, one man feeding bags into the side. Each burst being a few seconds." She explained.

"Do you think it'll work?" Flannerty asked, "For the stealthboys, I mean."

"Well it's not going to paste them in flour like a ghost." She said, "It's not how stealthboys work, they mask everything they're connected to in a light field." She said, "But when you see the dust start to disappear in front of your very eyes, you'll know where they are." She said.

"Excellent." said Lewis. "Thank you, Edna, I don't need to tell you always do great work." He said

"You sure don't." Edna teased. Lewis laughed before continuing.

"Make sure to have a few of those power armor suits downstairs in a few minutes, we're marching out soon." He said before walking out with Flannerty.

The two exited the building and walked into the Red Rocket proper. He nodded to the soldiers standing around inside, again they all stood and the quickly uttered "At Ease" set them down. He maneuvered around the countertop and into the backroom where two soldiers sat at a radio.

"Any word yet from the Gunners?" asked Lewis.

"None, General." replied the soldier at the radio.

"Keep, an eye on all channels, if they say anything at all it'll be on an open channel." Lewis commanded. He nodded for Flannerty to follow him out before leaving again.

As Flannerty walked with him, he noticed that the General had grown more in the last fifteen minutes than in the last two years. He wasn't the same, not nearly, not yet. His shoulders were straightened and square, but they were still somewhat sagged with the weight of responsibility. His eyes, bright with confidence, but filtering a sadness that touched the very soul. He was better though, much better. He wasn't the old General yet, but it put a smile on Flannerty's face to see the growth the old drunk he'd been assigned to take care of start to heal.

Lewis marched with an intent he hadn't felt in years. His bones, brittle and stiff were roughly adjusting to his current level of activity.

Shit, am I really breathing this hard? He thought Why am I breathing this hard? I just went up some stairs. Christ, maybe I am out of practice… Am I gonna hold up in a firefight? Don't focus on that right now- NO, I will focus on that right now! Jesus! I've got people depending on me and I can't even walk up the fucking stairs without having an asthma attack… Well, look at it this way, if you do get shot, it ain't your problem anymore. His thoughts intersected with one another and debated, but before he could get a clear answer, someone tapped on his shoulder. Oak was there, he had a piece of old paper in hand and a pen in the other.

"I've got the power armor guys' names here." Oak said, chewing his gum as he spoke.

"How many we got?" Lewis asked, resuming his walk and having the two captains walk alongside him.

"We've got five who can use it and three suits." Oak replied.

"One of them has to use the Junk Jet-" Lewis started.

"What?" Oak asked.

"Ask Edna." Flannerty replied.

"The other two should have big guns, we should have some miniguns in storage." Lewis continued.

"We have a gatling laser as well." Flannerty cut in.

"No we need the fusion cells for the muskets." Lewis answered. "And we have hostages there, we don't need a gun with that much spread on it. Have the power armor- Fuck it, we're calling them tanks, it's easier that way." Lewis said, a bit stressed but still demonstrating control. "Our tanks each need a minigun, a melee weapon and if they can use them in the suit, give em' a musket each too. Except for the Junk Jet, he's gonna move in with us, he just gets that and a melee weapon." Lewis explained, "Alright?" Lewis asked Oak.

"Affirmative." Oak said lightheartedly and walked on his way. Flannerty looked to the General.

"What should I do?" Flannerty asked, Lewis thought he was a bit more eager than he had been.

"Round up some guys and send out a search party for our messenger boy. Look for any stray gunners as well, we've got no clue if they're going to be patrolling." Lewis said.

"How many?" Asked Flannerty.

"I dunno, three other guys?" said Lewis, "Take them from our main army, we'll be marching them to Drumlin, rendezvous with us there at 1330. " He said.

"What about the whole two groups thing?" Flannerty asked.

"I'll march one, Oak'll take the others." replied Lewis. Flannerty nodded with a smile and pointed to a few soldiers, one of which was the girl Lewis had noticed earlier.

* * *

"You three!" One of the Captains shouted. It was the auburn haired one. Lyanna straightened herself, Jack and Declan following suit. "Names." The Captain said as he planted himself in front of them.

"Lyanna Wilson, sir." Lyanna shouted in response. Flannerty nodded and hushed her.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but mellow down, soldier." Flannerty said, "You two?" he looked to the others.

"Jack Tenpines." Jack said.

"Declan Rodgers." Declan answered.

"Alright then, Declan, Jack, Lyanna, you're all with me. We're going to be taking a bit of a scouting trip to try and find an AWOL soldier as well as track downy any Gunner Patrols in the area. Alright?" Flannerty asked. The three nodded. "Good, let's get rolling." Flannerty said, he waved to the General, and the General waved back.

As the four scouts headed out into the Commonwealth, the General and Captain Oak led their troops Southwest, to Drumlin, a small trading community setup around an old diner. In the distance, two armed men in green army fatigues rested at a clifftop. Next to them were two dead scavvers. One of the soldiers had a pair of binoculars in hand. He gestured for his comrade to hand him a handheld radio.

"He's alive." said the Gunner, "and he's got some friends, over." The radio static buzzed a bit and he could hear some orders being barked on the microphone.

"Message received, Private, return to base, over and out." warbled the radio. The gunner nodded to his companion, a nervous sweat breaking out over the AB+ tattooed on his forehead he looked to his companion to see the man frozen in fear, a makeshift, pipe gun pressed against his head. He felt a knife slide against his neck.

"Ah, ah, ah soldier boy." The rough voice said, "You've got some new orders."


End file.
